


Reaching Out

by bookstorequeer



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Angry Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e06 The Tragedy, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Violence (Star Wars), Gen, Spoilers, The Force, The Mandalorian (TV) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookstorequeer/pseuds/bookstorequeer
Summary: At first there was fear.And then there was rage.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 124





	Reaching Out

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for **The Mandalorian** , specifically **Chapter 14: The Tragedy**. (I'm posting this before I watch the next episode, in case it doesn't go like I want it to).
> 
> There isn't much canon-typical violence in this but there is _still_ an overuse of "he" because apparently I have a problem.

At first there was fear.

Once the soothing struggle of using It faded, he sighed and slumped. His heart was tired from directing It. From pushing It _away_ from the one he wished to call to. His Protector, his heart-named _buir_ was the only one he wished to keep close but the Sparkly One had insisted that he reach out. And his buir had echoed those same sounds back to him.

So he Reached and, with his heart protesting, he had asked It to send him a teacher. Someone who could help him to understand It. But in the seconds between his tiny heartbeats, he had begged that they let him keep his buir. He would give up everything that made him Special, if it meant keeping the one being in the galaxy who Loved him.

But as the strength of It left him, weaker than before, fear crept in. It turned his limbs to ice and his mind hazy. He could only stare, dumbfounded at the dark enemy surrounding him, holding him in an inescapable grip. He watched his buir fall away beneath him and was helpless. He wanted his Protector to fly after them with his beskar wings, to wrench him free from the arms of this soulless thing. But he could only stare down at that familiar profile, reaching with hand and heart for the being who kept him Safe.

And then there was rage.

He blinked up at the buzzing lights, their glare bright after the darkness of unconsciousness. There were suppressors around his hands and he could only feel It as a whisper. It was too far away to reach.

Instead he waited. As they picked him up, sneered at him, pricked and prodded his skin until he burned. He was quiet but he watched. Letting every feeling simmer, bubbling in his heart like the tick-tick- _tick_ of his Protector's boom charges.

There was only one faceless being in the room with him when he was rewarded for his patience. They had rushed, distant alarms ringing in his tired ears. Their large hands had fumbled and one suppressor cuff was looser than it should have been.

He waited, breathing deeply of the scent of It, as if he had been drowning without. It was a fresh breeze after days in their metal home. It was a live meal after his belly had ached for hours. It was strength and It was Ready.

Wriggling his hand free and letting his rage start to smoke and roil in his chest, he closed his eyes. He could Feel the being step closer, inquisitive noises from an unfamiliar, hidden mouth. A finger prodded his head but he remained still and quiet.

When the being turned away, looking to the door and reaching for a communicator on their belt, he let them lift it and then he Reached. He tangled his fingers and his heart tightly in Its fabric and he _pulled_. He Pulled and the very air screamed with his anger, boiling hot and smashing his captor against the wall. They slid stunned to the floor and he panted a moment in the aftermath.

His head was spinning but both hands were now free. He was higher from the ground than his buir let him jump but he found bravery in the idea of being chastised again, told _no_ while being held so carefully in that soft grip. His Protector's beskar face was different from these faceless enemies. It was forged by hands, not machines, and his buir's smile was in the tilt of it, the quiver in that voice that couldn't be swallowed.

These captors had kept him here. Had kept him away from his buir. The anger flared white hot in his heart and despite a warning bleat from the power surrounding him, he Reached. He threw the door aside, pushed the guard away, and the next, tossed a third down the corridor behind him.

Fear and anger met in the very middle of his heart as a wall of faceless faces towered over him. They were larger and physically stronger, with blasters and arms that could reach him before he could retaliate. But when fear and anger faded away, there was Love. The faintest echo of Love grew stronger in the pit of his stomach and he knew he would not be alone for long.

He ran as best he was able, batting away the enemy who got too close. He held It as tightly as he could, Wielding as well as he could until he turned a corner to the best sight he had ever seen.

There, in the centre of the corridor, panting and listing vaguely to the left in scorched beskar, was the helmet he adored to study, the hands that soothed him when he dreamed, the arms that carried him when he was too tired to walk.

"Grogu!"

He squealed with all the joy in his heart and stumbled forward on trembling legs. He was picked up and held close before he could make half the distance and he cooed, looking beyond the beskar to the bright, shiny Love reaching out.

He tucked his head as close as he could to that thundering pulse and closed his eyes. His Protector would save them. He let the echoes of blaster fire fade from his attention and listened to the hum of the beskar, to the purr between him and his buir.

There was no room for fear or anger when he was Safe. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Buir_ is Mando'a for "father/mother/parent," which I hope is clear from the context. (Translation found [here](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Mando%27a/Legends).)
> 
> This is specifically for a friend of mine, who I'd asked for fic suggestions.
> 
> To which he replied:  
> You're gonna have Baby Yodes murder everyone who mistreats him on that ship, right?
> 
> Yes, yes I am.


End file.
